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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29338341">Golden Blood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Devils_Sunflower/pseuds/The_Devils_Sunflower'>The_Devils_Sunflower</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avengers, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Avengers AU, Bi!Peter, Deaf!Hawkeye, F/F, Golden Blood, HoH!Abby Keener, Hydra, I'm Sorry, Lesbian!Abby, M/M, MJ x Shuri, Natasha is dead, for the sake of the plot, gay!harley, it had to be done, parkner, peter x harley, so is Tony, thorbruce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:16:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29338341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Devils_Sunflower/pseuds/The_Devils_Sunflower</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley and Abby Keener are being hunted. They're powerful and hurt. That makes for a dangerous combination. They've been living under fake names for years, hiding from people who want them controlled. Their plan works. Well, until Peter Parker picked them up that is...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abby Keener/Lila Barton, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Shuri, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. We don't do options</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The fire was warm. The heat on his face felt like an old friend. An old, ancient friend. Older than the Earth. The night air was cool; like the endless blue of the sea. A contrast with the blazing heat of the fire in front of him. He was silent as his neighbours rushed around him, screaming.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The flames hugged the walls of the Keener house. It looked almost like they were painting it. Turning the green door a deep ashy black.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The flames found gas. The house exploded. Harley watched in silent safety from the patch of grass over the road.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Johnathan Keener hadn’t believed him when Harley’d said that he would send this house up in flames. Jonathan Keener had laughed in his face while his mum was bleeding out on the floor. And then Johnathan Keener had turned on Abby.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abby clung tighter to his arm. She was nine years old. She’d survived. But she didn’t look like Abby. Blood was matted in her hair, still wet and flashing golden in the firelight. Her face was unrecognisable with the patterns of bruises that were slowly beginning to heal.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This night would be embedded in her memory for the rest of her life. It would be in his.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He made the fire burn hotter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harley walked away from that night knowing one thing. Rose Hill wasn’t safe anymore.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The cafe was Abby’s favourite place to meet. He supposed it was the atmosphere; the cheery blue doors and window frames, paired with the glass and steel furniture made the place feel homey. Add in the flowers pouring out of every crevice and it was almost magical. It felt like an aesthetic.</p><p>He was sitting outside the coffee shop waiting for his sister. She was later than usual. She’d sent him a message saying Hazel - her service dog - had developed kidney stones, so she was dropping her off at the vet before coming over.</p><p>Hazel was quite a big dog. She was a German Shepherd, about two years old. Abby had gotten her to help with her hearing and PTSD. She’d become especially helpful when Abby started living on her own, for Harley too. For him, Hazel was a reminder that Abby was safe and had someone who was able to help her when the going got tough.</p><p>Which was why he was always more alert when Hazel wasn’t around.</p><p>He knew Abby could handle herself just fine without her dog, but that didn’t stop him from being worried. He knew that she was going to tease him for his overprotectiveness at some point. But he had good reason for it.</p><p>A bumblebee was hovering around his iced latte. The bee’s fuzzy yellow and black body softly bounced around the table. It was followed by its distorted reflection in the wavy glass. It was rather cute.</p><p>“Harley!” Abby was running over the crosswalk. She was waving to him with the biggest grin on her face. She threw herself into the chair across from him, still grinning wildly as the steel creaked beneath her. He just chuckled and pushed her iced mocha over. She had such a sweet tooth, Harley wondered if she would explode one day from the sheer amount of sugar she ingested.</p><p>Abby began chattering away to him about anything and everything. Hazel, her new plants, the elderly neighbour across the hall, a new recipe, a discovery she’d made at her lab, the new species of fish at the aquarium. Her hands moved quickly as she talked. They bounced about like her frizzy blonde hair - currently tied back into a ponytail.</p><p>Harley laughed along with her. He told her about the things he was fixing in the shop, all those flashy bikes and battered cars belonging to different types of people. He told her about the new songs he was playing and about the cat that liked to stop by in the evenings to chill on his fire escape.</p><p>They argued about different films and about what the strangest pizza topping was (Abby was dead set on it being fish, but it was obvious that macaroni was way weirder).</p><p>The time would slip away before either of them could realise it. The cafe would close and they’d usually make their separate ways home. This time though, was different. Harley went with Abby to collect Hazel from the vet, and as a treat, they took a walk through the park.</p><p>The sun was beginning to set as they moved through the park. The sky was streaked with colour and the stars were starting to emerge. It was mesmerising. There were Bluebells growing in the flower beds and Abby bent down to pick a few before handing them to Harley. “These were your favourite when we were little. You called them pixie flowers.”</p><p>He took the Bluebells and gently tucked them into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt.<br/>“And I believe you called Foxgloves ‘witch’s bells’.” He plucked a few of the flowers and wove them into her ponytail.</p><p>Abby sat down on the grass and plucked a few more flowers. He settled down next to her and watched quietly as she deftly wove the stems together. He wasn’t surprised when she placed the finished product on his head a few minutes later; he’d always liked flower crowns.</p><p>She looked a little bit like a modern-day fairy queen with the addition of the foxgloves. The flowers brushed against the steel frames of her spectacles and the streetlamps made the flyaway strands of hair glow slightly. The German Shepherd next to her made her look almost commanding.</p><p>“What is it Barley?”<br/>“Nothing much Nightingale. Just thinkin’.”<br/>“Oh really? Didn’t know you could do that.”<br/>“Rude.”<br/>“Well excuse you, it’s not my fault you never display that wonderful intellect of yours to the world. In fact, that just makes it easier to forget it’s there.”<br/>“Y’know I can’t believe I forget just how mean you can be when you want to.” He poked her in the ribs. “You constantly act like you’re a soft little marshmallow, but really-”<br/>“I’m a little shit.” She grinned. “But y’know what? We’re both little shits... Only because we haven’t yet mastered the art of being bastards.”</p><p>Harley cackled. In typical Abby Keener fashion she was right. They absolutely were a pair of little shits. They were both deceptively chaotic; nobody would have painted them as tricksters (unless of course, you knew them well enough). They’d learnt that to get away with it, they had to get damn good at lying.</p><p>Hazel padded over to him. The darkness and orangey lighting illuminated the reflective patches on her service vest. It also made her look slightly spooky. The effect was ruined when she began licking his cheeks, seeming to say ‘Hello, hello I missed you.’ She was a very affectionate dog, and he was affection starved. He ran his fingers through her fur. It was slightly rough to the touch.</p><p>The sunlight was completely gone now. The only light coming from the streetlamps and open windows. He checked his watch. 22:53. They should start heading home. There were all sorts of unsavoury characters wandering New York at this time of night. It was a hotspot for crime syndicates.<br/>“Abbs?”<br/>“Yeah?”<br/>“We should head - it’s pretty late.”<br/>She hoisted herself off of the grass and offered him a hand.</p><p> </p><p>They’d been walking the streets for twenty minutes, sticking to the well-lit ones and keeping away from the alleys. Abby’s apartment block was roughly another five minutes away. Harley couldn’t help but feel uneasy. There was something about the darkness and the silence in a place that was normally bright and loud that made him feel like they were being watched. Abby and Hazel clearly felt the same. He could see it in their alert, upright stances.</p><p>That and the fact that neither of them had said anything since leaving the park.</p><p>He heard the rumble of a car behind them. It sounded big, new. The alarm bells in his head began ringing like nuts and Hazel began to growl. If you’ve never heard a German Shepherd growl before, it sounds almost like someone playing a wood block. To Harley it was terrifying. He’d never heard her growl before, so the fact that she was now only solidified his fear.</p><p>They stopped walking.</p><p>The car pulled up beside them. The windows were tinted. Abby turned around but stopped at the two men behind them. They wore crisp dark clothes and their faces were harshly lit by the orange light of the streetlamp. There were two more standing in front of them. Hazel growled louder.</p><p>Someone got out of the car. Harley tensed up even further. They were shorter than him, by at least a head but they exuded an aura of ‘don’t even think about fucking with me’. They had short brown curls and a hard jawline. There was a silvery ring with a small ‘A’ in a circle on their finger. It was clear they wanted something.</p><p>“Could you stop your dog from growling, miss?” Their voice was surprisingly soft. It was like they were talking to frightened rabbits.<br/>Abby glared at them. “Like Hell I will.” Her voice was sharp. “If you want her to stop then I suggest you leave.”<br/>“Well you see miss, we can’t do that. My friends and I would very much like to meet you both.” Oh shit.<br/>“Well we don’t. We aren’t interested in meeting up with strangers.”<br/>“You can call me Mr. Parker if it’s a name you’re looking for Ms. Munroe.” Thank fuck. Thank fuck he was using the fake name.<br/>“We aren’t interested.” Parker turned to him and Harley didn’t miss that flicker in his eyes.<br/>“Well I wasn’t giving you an option.”<br/>“Neither were we.”</p><p>The last thing Harley remembered was Hazel barking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Time to panic some more</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Abby runs around a fancy building, lost and salty. Harley makes a lot of noise. Hazel gets some bacon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> The ocean was cold. Icy. Bottomless. When people compared her to Harley, they always said something along the lines of fire and water. Harley was wild and dangerous when she was placid and meek. People thought the water was safe because it was soft to the touch.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Had they never seen a storm? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The doctors said Abby remembered too many bad things. They had expected her to forget them - something called Dissociative Amnesia. She hadn’t. The ocean can’t banish its monsters. She wished she could. If only so that they would talk about something, someone, else.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She knows it was Harley who sent their house to hell. She doesn’t blame him, Dad was never nice. The only thing she had liked about the house was that it smelled like Mom. Mom had smelled like cookies. But Mom was dead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She’d seen Dad come home with a gun swinging loosely in his hand and the look of a madman etched on his face. She’d seen Mom dodge four out of the six bullets. The fifth one brought her down, and the sixth one finished her. Like killing a deer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The bottle came whizzing toward her head and she hadn’t ducked fast enough. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When people looked at her they didn’t see the storms. The howling and roaring just behind her eyes. They didn't look that far. They saw the still surface of a lake, not understanding that she was the ocean. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No one knew the full strength of the sea.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Abby Keener knew something important before she turned ten. Water held forgotten danger. Water was quietly lethal. Water brought pain. Water thrummed through her very blood. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>This was terrifying. She wasn’t supposed to be in this situation. It was everything they’d tried to avoid. There were too many people out there who wanted them. They were hunting them. So after Rose Hill they had run for their lives. </p><p>New names, new identities and a few dollars could go a long way when you were desperate. It had gotten them from Tennessee to New York. It had gotten them away from scientists and soldiers.</p><p>They had found a home in New York. They were able to relax, to settle down. Hydra’s goons were far away. Then this happened. The only thing she knew, was that these people weren’t Hydra. That wasn’t exactly comforting.</p><p>Because these people were good, probably better than Hydra. She knew nothing about them and that scared her. Harley was gone, Hazel was gone, and she didn’t know where she was or who was in control.</p><p>The room was luxurious. It looked like something out of a palace with all the gilded furniture, soft colours and shiny wood. She hated it. It was a cell, and no amount of luxury would get her to enjoy it. </p><p>She shifted over to the bedside table and put on her glasses. There was a small note that said ‘Breakfast is at 9:00 - don’t be late!’ in a loopy scrawl. Mocking and cruel. </p><p>Her foxgloves were sitting next to the note. The pink flowers were dark and slightly crushed. Someone had taken them out of her hair. A stranger had tainted the only thing she currently had of her brother. She got dressed.</p><p>The blue satin shirt felt odd. The pants did too. They felt like they belonged to someone else, despite how well they fit her. Alien. Melancholy. As though they once belonged to someone who wasn’t here anymore. Abby caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked different. The flowers clashed violently with the clothes. Good. She looked herself dead in the eyes. They looked almost like iron. Dented and cold. She left the room. Might as well get lost.</p><p>The halls were lined with dark wood and paintings. It looked like an extension of the cell. She found a staircase. Up or down? Down. It’d be easier to make an excuse. Dining rooms were usually on the bottom floor. The carpet was soft against her bare feet. It was stupid how soft they were. It made her furious. She’d never experienced luxury like this. They’d never been able to afford it, and these people with all the money in the <em> world </em>, had decided to butt into her life and take away her only emotional support. </p><p>Someone laid their hand on her shoulder, on instinct Abby swung round to greet them with her fist. They had expected the fist, catching it easily. They hadn’t seen the kick to the stomach. That had sent them flying. They smacked their head against a clay plant pot. She almost felt sorry for them.</p><p>“What the hell?” The girl nursed her head, wincing slightly. She had dark hair that brushed past her shoulders and a broad nose. There was a small scar above her lip. “If I’d known that was gonna happen, I would’ve introduced myself first.”</p><p>“To be fair, I still would’ve panicked.”</p><p>“You’re new here, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.” Abby saw the girl click the pieces together in her mind.</p><p>“The dining room’s down the hall to your left.”</p><p>“Thanks…”</p><p>The girl walked off without another word.</p><p> </p><p>Parker was in the dining room. He was looking out the window, he looked almost serene. She was able to see him clearer now that he wasn’t shrouded in shadows and sickly orange light.</p><p>“Hello Abigail.” She didn’t say a thing. “If you’re wondering where your brother is, I can assure you he will be down soon.”</p><p>“Where are we?”</p><p>“You’ll find out, we tend to have meetings after breakfast.”</p><p>“Then where’s my dog? I need her.”</p><p>“She accidentally tore her stitches defending you last night, we’ve been restitching them.”</p><p>“I'm holding you responsible for that.”</p><p>“You have good reason to.” He turned to face her. “I am sorry about the way I handled the situation last night.” She glared at him. “Our enemies were following you and I panicked. If they’re after you, you’re in considerable danger.”</p><p>“And who exactly are your enemies?”</p><p>“Pretty much anyone who stands against us.”</p><p>“And what do you stand for?”</p><p>“Protection of humanity. They don’t call us the Avengers for nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh. <em> Oh </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you know why they were following us?”</p><p>“No. No clue at all, but it couldn’t have been good.”</p><p>“Hm… Abby.”</p><p>“Peter.”</p><p> </p><p>The strangest thing was that she trusted that he was telling the truth. Maybe not all of it, but he wasn’t outright lying to her. Though she had to admit, his methods were a bit unorthodox. She didn’t get much farther in her musings before a crashing came from the hall. In her peripheral vision she saw Peter snap into a fighting stance. Hazel burst through the doors and bounded over to her, followed by Harley and a few very disgruntled looking people. One of whom was the girl from earlier.</p><p>Hazel jumped into her arms and Abby scooped her up. She peeked through Hazel fur to see Harley still running at full speed towards her.</p><p>“Are you alright?!”</p><p>“Harley, I’m fine.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yes. Now why the hell are you running rampant through the building? That’s not the most sensible thing to be doing.”</p><p>“I had no idea where you were, I saw someone chasing Hazel down the hall, I figured she was looking for you so I followed. The others joined the chase out of their own free will. It’s not my fault. Speaking of them,” he turned to Peter, who was back in his relaxed state from earlier, “who the fuck are these people?”</p><p>“They would be the Avengers.” Peter muttered. </p><p>“Oh. Sorry. I-i overreacted.”</p><p>“No shit.” She muttered</p><p>Since most of the Avengers were now in the dining room, and it was somewhat close to nine, they decided to have breakfast there and then. Abby filled Harley in on her conversation with Peter as they ate, both of them sneaking Hazel scraps of food under the table every so often. Hazel got to enjoy a very large helping of bacon.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“So,” Peter clapped his hands to gain everyone’s attention, “first things first, are there any new problems that I don’t already know about?”</p><p>“There’s another base we found in the Scottish Highlands. We still aren’t sure what they’re up to there, but it isn’t good.”</p><p>“Right. We’ll start prepping a tac team for that.”</p><p>“Another person went missing in Philadelphia.”</p><p>“Do you think this is linked to the Keener case?” What. What the shit.</p><p>“No, I’m pretty sure those two are somewhere in New York. Besides, the police are already all over that anyway and I don’t think they’d appreciate us turning up again.”</p><p>“Ok, but we’ll keep tabs on it just in case. Anything else? No? Okay, right. Everyone, I’d like to introduce Abby and Harley Munroe.” Harley let out a weak ‘hi’. “We brought them in last night as Hydra was following them. They don’t seem to know why Hydra was following them, and neither do we.”</p><p>The meeting continued like that for another hour. Harley and Abby occasionally had a couple of questions thrown their way about Hydra and their predicament, but they were mostly ignored, which allowed them to trade in frightened glances. Keener case?! They were on the Avengers’ radar?! Holy <em>fuck</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I figured out how to do it! Enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bruising Our Souls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>spilled feelings... a little angst</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Pain was brutal and often bloody. It could paralyse you. It could strip you down to everything you hid from the world; expose everything you were trying to heal. It could be a dull echo in the back of your mind, filled with horrors gone by, or a building crushing your spine. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Peter was familiar with all those types of pain. They were all the same, but all slightly different.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There was the pain of trauma that hid in the back of his mind, not making itself known, but there nonetheless. There was the pain of injuries, old and new. Sharp and searing when he put strain on them. There was the pain of loss, that sat hand in hand with his trauma. Small and unthreatening, but vicious. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He wasn’t okay. He hadn’t been okay for a long, long time now. He was lost inside his shells of protection. He was trapped under the layers and layers of fear and despair. It wasn’t like the building that had almost broken his back in two, but it was eerily similar. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Pain had taken the love from him. Every last drop. The gods had ravaged him. It wasn’t enough for him to mourn. The pain had squeezed him dryer than a river. Of the love he had been given and the love he gave. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Pain had shattered him. Blood danced on his face like warpaint. A homage to the fire he felt when he drowned in it. Pain - as much as Peter didn’t want to admit it - had conquered him. It held him underfoot and watched with malevolence as every one of Peter’s monsters ran away. Grinning when Peter realised he had nothing left to defend him. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Peter Parker was a scared, broken little boy underneath the spidersuit. Too scared to pick up his sword and challenge pain. Too weak. He would one day though. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He would one day. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Papers and files were scattered all over his office. They were on the bookcases, the chairs, even the floor. MJ would’ve chided him. It looked like a tip. The lines and lines of dark ink were starting to give him a migraine. He rubbed his eyes and peered at the blurry photographs again.</p><p> </p><p>A house cocooned in fire. A room filled with water. A black van with vines bursting out of the windows. A snowstorm in summer. Every single photo was an anomaly. Things like these didn’t happen - they shouldn’t. The kicker was that the Keener kids had been in the area for every single one of them.</p><p> </p><p>He figured at least one of them was enhanced. It would explain the anomalies as well as Hydra’s interest. But how strong were they? There was always the off chance that these had been caused by different people, there was no proof that tied the kids to these oddities. Hell, he didn’t even know what they looked like.</p><p> </p><p>And then there was Harley and Abby. Why had Hydra’s agents been trailing them? Abby didn’t seem to know that the agents had been Hydra and he hadn’t yet spoken to Harley about it. Could they or their parents have done something to piss Hydra off? Did Hydra want them for experiments? Why them? Did Hydra know something about them that they didn’t?</p><p> </p><p>Could they be linked to the Keeners?</p><p> </p><p>He groaned and rubbed his eyes before rummaging through the files on his desk. He might find something useful in there. Someone knocked softly on the door.</p><p>“Just a second please!” He called and hurriedly tidied away the files and papers. “Come in!”</p><p>He wasn’t expecting Harley to enter the room. Peter had to say he cleaned up well. </p><p>“Um, hi.”</p><p>“Hi... Uh, please,” Peter gestured to an empty chair, “sit down.”</p><p>There was an awkward silence after that.</p><p> </p><p>“So, um, what did you want to talk about?”</p><p>“Oh yeah,” Harley glanced at him, “who exactly were those people following us?”</p><p>“They were two Hydra agents. We weren’t able to identify them, they vanished the moment we showed up.” </p><p>“So it’s likely they know where we are, or at the very least who we’re with.”</p><p>“Have you encountered Hydra before, Harley? It might explain why they were following you.”</p><p>He shifted in his seat, the dark red fabric of his shirt rustled in the quiet. “Yes.” </p><p> </p><p>It seemed almost painful for him to say. As though if it was said any louder something might shatter. Peter didn’t pry. He knew trauma when he saw it. Harley would share his load with someone when he felt ready to do so. The silence began anew, but it was softer and heavier than the one before.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll protect you from them.”</p><p>“Promise it. If you promise then we’ve got something to fall back on.”</p><p>“You can’t protect people with promises, Harley.”</p><p>“You can if you mean them.”</p><p>“But there’s always the chance of failure.” Harley fixed his eyes on him. They were a petrifying blue. Almost like the eyes of Medusa.</p><p>“I never mentioned that you had to succeed. I didn’t mention that. You just have to promise to protect us. That doesn’t mean forever.”</p><p> </p><p>“I promise to keep both of you safe. Wherever you might be.”</p><p> </p><p>For the third time, silence descended; but to Peter this felt much more powerful than the last. As though he was now bound to those words by body, mind and soul. As though they were ironclad.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you Parker.”</p><p>“Please, call me Peter.”<br/>“Thank you Peter.” Harley got up to leave before Peter spoke again.</p><p>“Harley, do you know anything about the Keeners?”</p><p>“The who?”</p><p>“There are two kids - perhaps young adults now - who Hydra have been tracking for several years now. We-<em> I’m </em> really worried for them because Hydra knows so much more about them than we do. Even if you don’t know anything about them I’ve been working on this case for three days straight. I could use a fresh pair of eyes.”</p><p>Harley sat back down. “Alright,” he studied him again with those flame-blue eyes, “but you have got to get some sleep. You look like you might drop dead any second.”</p><p><em> ‘That might not be so bad.’ </em> Peter’s loss whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Peter showed Harley the small stacks of files and photographs. They spent hours pouring over them, sitting in comfortable silence and occasionally discussing leads. For all his time as an Avenger Peter had never felt more relaxed. It reminded him of being with Tony, tinkering away at little projects and watching crappy tv with Natasha.</p><p> </p><p>They hadn’t made huge progress, but Harley had suggested some good points that coincided with the ones Peter had already drawn up. They turned the photos and dates into a timeline. A journey. One that started near Northern Alabama and trailed up to somewhere near New York. It was rough around the edges, but it gave the mystery some much needed context.</p><p> </p><p>As they pieced together the puzzle, Peter pieced together his feelings. He was content with Harley’s company. It was what led him to invite Harley to his office the next day. And the day after that.</p><p> </p><p>Harley’s presence made him feel comfortable. Warm and safe. Like he could put down spiderman and be Peter Parker. No strings attached. Like coming home from preschool and having a movie night with mom, dad, May and Ben. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. For weeks, Peter thought it was because they were becoming close friends. </p><p> </p><p>“Abby and Harley have settled in pretty well.” MJ said, her voice was tinged with amusement. She was lounging in one of the armchairs in Peter’s - now very tidy - office</p><p>“Yeah they have,” he smiled, “it was rather funny seeing you, Shuri and Lila chasing him and Hazel into the dining room when they first came here.”</p><p>“Seriously though Parker, that boy is fast as hell. He’s been running since the day he was born.”</p><p>“Well he grew up in the country so I wouldn’t be surprised.”</p><p>“Seriously though, I’m glad you two get along. It’s been a while since you’ve looked so relaxed.”</p><p>“I do feel better for it. I’m also getting more sleep which is great.”</p><p>“Tell me about it. Shuri was one step away from inventing sleep medicine.”</p><p>“Let her know I appreciate the thought. My current medication is probably leagues away from what she could create.”</p><p>“I mean it Peter. You look so much more like yourself. Like the Peter Parker we grew up with.” She smiled. “I think you’re having a positive influence on Harley too. He seems less…”</p><p>“Haunted? He told me that they’d brushed feathers with Hydra before. One encounter is enough to rattle anyone.”</p><p>“Take care of him Peter. I think he’s more hurt than he lets on.” She made her way over to the door. “Oh, and Sam said he wanted to talk to you at some point about Hydra bases or something. He said it wasn’t urgent.”</p><p>“Ok, I’ll talk to him about that, see you at dinner!”</p><p>“See you later, loser.” MJ graced him with her trademark smirk before shutting the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>She was right. He was more of the Peter Parker he once was, and honestly? It felt pretty good. But he wasn’t sure why he had let Harley in so quickly, or why Harley had come to see him in the first place. Perhaps he’d been referred to his office, but that still didn’t explain Peter’s part in things. Maybe it was because Peter had felt he could trust Harley, but that didn’t chalk up either.</p><p> </p><p>There was something between them that was different from Peter’s other friendships. Maybe it was the promise, that unearthly binding sensation. Maybe it was the fact that Harley had trauma too. Was it his need to protect? He couldn’t shake the feeling that Harley wasn’t quite normal. It was the same for Abby too. What was weirder was that he seemed to be the only person who picked up on it.</p><p> </p><p>It made sense that they might be enhanced. Harley was able to keep up with a german shepherd and Abby had accidentally sent Lila flying. What didn’t make sense was the fact they were hiding it. They were comfortable around them, and if they spoke up about it they’d be better protected. It just didn’t make sense.</p><p> </p><p>He managed to catch Harley after dinner. The boy looked so happy, he’d laughed and joked with people the whole way through. He wore a grin when Peter pulled him into another room. This was probably the happiest he’d seen him.</p><p>“Harley I-,” he took a breath to steady himself, “are you enhanced?”</p><p>The euphoria vanished from his face. It was like someone had turned out a light.</p><p>“What gave it away?”</p><p>“Well I don’t know many people who can keep up with a german shepherd.” Harley remained cold. “Do you know what you can control?”</p><p>“Peter, I don’t. And I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand.”</p><p>“Harley, I need to know. I promised to protect you.”</p><p>“I can’t tell you! There’s so many secrets here, I don’t know who to trust! I don’t know who’ll understand, I don’t know what the hell is going on!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I thought you trusted me.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I do understand, Harley. I understand what it’s like to lose everyone you care about. Everyday I need to remind myself that there’s something worth living for, and you made it easier. Harley, you were helping me. Whether you knew it or not. You gave me mercy, love and kindness - more than I’d ever had since being bit by that goddamned spider.</p><p>"I wake up in the dead of night, either crying over a life I couldn’t save or another trauma-induced nightmare. And it’s stupid,” hot tears pricked his eyes, “because I can lift nearly three-hundred <em> tons </em> , and that’s not enough. I still had to lose <em> everyone </em>. I have no family left, and for the longest time I thought I’d lost my love too.”</p><p>Peter wiped his eyes and slumped against the wall..</p><p>“I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, but don’t tell me I don’t understand pain. Because ever since I put on that fucking suit, I’ve never known anything but.”</p><p> </p><p>Harley sat down next to him. The room felt alive and dead at the same time, and Harley’s presence was the only solid thing. The anchor.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did this to you Peter. I shouldn’t’ve assumed, but I did.”</p><p>He heard Harley sniffle, and snuggled closer. If they were going to spill their tears, they could at least do it together.</p><p> </p><p>“We ran away from home. I was eleven and Abby was nine. Dad came home with a gun that night and shot our mom dead, right in front of us. He gave Abby the worst beating I’d ever seen in my life. There’s still scars above her ear from the bottle. Then I did what might just’ve been the most foolhardy thing I’ve ever done. I set the house on fire, with those strange monstrous abilities.</p><p>"I guess there must’ve been Hydra agents who’d gotten hold of the information, because pretty soon we were in one of their facilities. Somehow Abby drowned each and every one of them. We’ve done terrible things for survival. Terrible, terrible things. You helped me forget what I’ve done and I’m grateful for that. I’m sorry for what I said Pete. I became so wrapped up in my pain that I forgot other people experienced it. </p><p>"We’re so broken, I-I don’t know what to do about it. I’m frightened I’ll turn out like them, but I’m also frightened I’ll wake up one morning and I’ll realise I don’t know who I am.”</p><p> </p><p>The two boys sat there in the silence and the dark, mulling over the information. Harley and Abby were Keeners. The people he’d been looking for. He supposed he should be happy, they were safer now, but he couldn’t find it in him. He was just tired.</p><p> </p><p>Harley was warm and before he realised it, they were both fast asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first actual fic that I'm publishing so I'm pretty excited for this.</p><p>Also help, I have no idea how Ao3 works. (If someone can show me how to do italics and make things bold that would be awesome thank you)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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